


Come Away, O Human Child

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Fae & Fairies, Faunlock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: “Why did you pick me?”Sherlock startled out of whatever revelry he had been under and closed the space between them.  Leaning down he placed a warm, chaste kiss on the edge of John’s lips, causing both to shiver in delight.  “Because you are meant to be mine.”





	1. In The Beginning

The path was dusty and steep. Many times John Watson’s boots skid on loose rocks and dirt, sending a haze of dust up around him. His hands caught in the ground to keep himself from sliding backwards to his death. For a long moment he gasped for air and then shifted the weight of his pack. A long time ago when he was a boy he had been very good at climbing up the slide. The experience was the same but he was out of practice and he was much heavier than his child self. As he took another step he heard a crack and lost his balance, landing on his knees and scraping up his hands as he slid back a several inches. Instinctively he reached for the vegetation at the side of the path to keep himself from sliding back further. 

John breathed through the pain, cursing his clumsiness. Now was not the time to be injured. A test of his ankle told him that it hurt like hell but it bore his weight so it probably wasn’t broken… Merely sprained. It still wasn’t the best news. There was miles of wilderness surrounding him and the helicopter would only return for him after the mission was over. 

With the last of his strength he pulled himself up the last few feet to the edge of the embankment he was climbing. His ankle protested every step but he managed to haul himself up onto the edge to look at the clearing beyond. There was a stream that ran parallel with the cliff he had climbed. Overhanging the stream was an old oak tree. On hands and knees he crawled several yards to the tree and set his pack down beside him to pull out his walkie. 

“Watson here.”

“Go ahead, Watson.”

“I’m injured. It’s not life threatening but it has restricted my movement.”

“Copy.” The walkie talkie replied. “Standby.”

Watson waited, his eyes scanning the bushed at the edge of the trees. 

“Watson, stay put. You will be retrieved tomorrow.”

“Copy that. Watson out.” And with that he set his walkie aside. 

It wasn’t a particularly bad place to be stranded overnight. The tree gave him shelter. The stream provided water. The ache of his ankle demanded his attention and he unlaced the boot to remove it and his sock. The stream also provided cold to bring down the swelling. With his trousers rolled up, he set his foot into the water and allowed the chill to work.

There was a rustle in the bushes and his eyes immediately went to the sound. Nothing was there. Perhaps it was a bird.

^.~

The villagers spoke of a monster, a beast. Their reports came with a rising panic that demanded action. Since the village was so near the army base with rumors that the beast was from the base, soldiers were called in to sweep through the woods and pacify the fears of the villagers. The plan was to conduct a search, a line of soldiers searching the woods. When they got to the far side they would make camp. The next morning they were to sweep back again in case something got through the line. No consideration was made for the terrain. That is how Watson had been forced to scale a steep path without finding an easier way up the ridge. If he deviated from his trajectory then something might slip through. Those in line beside him would have to adjust to fill in for him and he felt bad for them. It was rotten luck to be given the steepest portion of the ridge. 

^.~

John Watson fed another stick into his small camp fire. Had he reached his destination he would have been required to build a bonfire big enough to discourage the creature that was being hunted from escaping into the country side. In the middle of the woods it served no purpose but for the very basic need for warmth.

Also there was the hope that any monster in the woods would be fearful enough not to take out Watson when he was isolated.

The bushes nearby continued to move and John was very much aware that something was watching him. Every so often he checked the bush with his torch to try and catch a glimpse of whatever was lingering.

It was getting late. John started to bed down for the night, keeping the tree at his back. For a time he stared up through the branches at the moon. Eventually he began to get drowsy. It was at that moment that something happened.

There was a sound of rustling. Something or someone stepped out of the bushes and John scrambled for his torch to shine on the bushes. At first he thought that it was a man for he stood upright. But then he moved and John dropped his torch in horror. The man’s legs moved backwards! With a cry of surprise he desperately tried to move away from the fire even as the man with backwards legs approached. “What are you? What are you?” John cried out as his hand went for his pack to find his gun. 

The creature entered the light cast by the fire and stared back at John, head cocked to the side. “What do you mean, what am I? Isn’t it obvious?” Vaguely he indicated his legs.

And then John got a better look at the legs, realizing they weren’t actually backwards. They were covered in fur and ended in hooves like an animal. Blinking in surprise, his hand pulled out of his pack. “You’re… Some sort of faun or satyr?”

The faun smiled and stepped closer, coming around the fire to sit before John. “That’s right.”

John looked him up and down. His hair was dark and curly. His hears were pointed. From the waist up he was shaped like a human man with broad shoulders. Below the waist he was like a cloven hooved animal… A deer or a goat. As the faun came around the fire he caught a glimpse of a short tail. The only part below the waist that looked out of place was his penis, which was hard and definitely shaped as a human man’s. 

The faun reached out and took John’s ankle in his hands, causing the soldier to startle and begin to protest. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt you.” The faun stated and squeezed the joint between warm hands.

It didn’t hurt. And when the faun released the ankle John was surprised that it no longer hurt. The swelling went down and a careful test in range of movement revealed that it was no longer sprained. “How did you do that?”

The faun smirked, his eyes flashing in amusement. “I have my ways.”

“Well… Thank you.” John smiled back, feeling the heat from where the faun touched him travel up his leg. The sensation seemed to migrate through his body, making him feel completely warm and relaxed at the faun’s touch even though by rights he should be terrified. Instead he felt really good… Almost intoxicated.

A light drifted over them. It looked something like a firefly but it was bigger. The light circled the faun’s head, revealing a pair of horns nestled in dark curls. The light pulsed and suddenly a naked woman stood before them. “Hello.” The woman smiled, not at all concerned with her unclothed state. Her skin’s glow rivaled the light from the fire. 

“Hello.” John replied, trying not to notice the way a long, dark curl rested perfectly around her left nipple. “Um…” His eyes fell to her feet and that’s when he noticed that she was floating several inches off the ground. “Are you floating?”

“Irene is a fairy.” The faun informed John from where he sat beside him. “What do you want?” That was directed at the fairy and held more than a little contempt. 

“I just came to see how you were getting along. This is the one you came for?” Irene made a face. “He’s a bit scrawny. I don’t know… I suppose I will have to see him naked. He might have girth or length to make up for it.”

“Wait… What?” John attempted to distance himself from the two but found the tree at his back blocked his escape.

“No one asked you!” The faun snapped. “Go away! I don’t need your help. You’re scaring him.”

“Fine…” Irene rolled her eyes and stepped back, returning to her tiny light size and buzzed away.

“What did she mean by that?” John demanded. “Why do I have to be naked?”

The faun tugged at John’s clothing, his fingers awkwardly trying to undo buttons. But either he never encountered them before or he was out of practice. Finally he gave up with a sigh of frustration. “You are wearing too many clothes! You must be naked when we enter into the fairy realm.”

John looked down at his clothing and then at the faun. “Why?” He asked.

The faun rolled his eyes at him and shook his head. “You must leave all mortal things behind.” It was said as if it was the simplest logic in the world.

But John did not understand that logic. “But why?”

Finally the faun threw up his hands in disgust and sat back on his haunches with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. And with that he scowled at John. “I’m not answering any more questions until you take off your clothes.”

It seemed they were at a stalemate. John stared down at his bare foot. His ankle was normal sized. Casually he rubbed it against his other foot, still in the shoe. “How about I remove something and ask a question. You answer?”

The faun made a face as if weighing his options before nodding. “Agreed.”

John untied his shoe and pulled it off, setting it aside as he pondered his first question. It was best to start with the basics. “What is your name?”

“Sherlock.” The faun smiled. 

John had never heard a name like it. “My name is John Watson.” Peeling off the sock, he stuffed it into the shoe. “What do you want?”

“I want to take you to the fairy realm.” Sherlock answered promptly.

John went for his trousers before realizing he was wearing a belt. The belt was unbuckled and pulled off. “Why do you want to take me to the fairy realm?” 

Sherlock made a face and shifted his posture as if he wasn’t quite sure what position to be in when he answered. “Many thousands of years ago this area made a pact with the fairy realm to offer up mortal sacrifices.”

John scooted back. “Sacrifice? Am I going to die?”

Sherlock scowled and shook his head. “You didn’t take anything off.”

Desperately John looked himself over before seeing his watch. Quickly he pulled it off and set it in his shoe, cushioned by his sock. “Am I going to die?” 

“No.” Sherlock smiled.

John scowled at the simple answer to his fearful question. If they weren’t going to kill him, what would they do to him? Would it hurt? His fingers fumbled over his buttons as he undid he shirt and shrugged out of it. “If I’m taken to your realm as a sacrifice… Won’t people notice that I’m gone?”

Sherlock shook his head and shifted closer. “There will be a body left behind for them to find. It won’t really be you but they won’t know that.”

John peeled off his vest and tossed it aside. “What will you do with me?”

Sherlock’s eyes focused on John’s chest as if the amount of skin revealed mesmerized him. “I will… I’ll keep you with me… Always.” Hastily he swallowed.

John tried not to notice that Sherlock seemed distracted as he continued the slow strip tease. His trousers were next and he stood up in order to drop them down his legs and kick them away. “Can I come back?”

Sherlock stood too and took a step closer, his hand reaching out almost to touch. “In a way… Someday. Yes. It’s complicated.”

John bit his lip and pushed his pants down and off, stepping out of them. Sherlock’s statement about return being complicated caught his interest. How would Sherlock know that? Had he once been mortal like John? Had he gone through this? “Were you once human?” 

“Yes.” Sherlock’s answer was simple and finite. They stood, facing each other. Sherlock’s eyes trailed down John’s body and back up again. 

John felt like he was on display. Shyly he blushed and bit his lip. His cheeks reddened. Never had he ever felt so naked before another person. “Well?”

Sherlock swallowed hard and reached out to lightly touch the dog tags that rested on John’s chest. “You have to remove these… John Watson.” Sherlock’s eyes lingered on the letters on the tag for a long moment.

John took a deep breath and removed the dog tags, dropping them onto his pile of clothing. There was one more question. But his mind was blank. His mind was consumed by the once human who stood before him as if he was a myth come alive. Furry legs, horns and raging hard cock ready for fucking. “Why did you pick me?”

Sherlock startled out of whatever revelry he had been under and closed the space between them. Leaning down he placed a warm, chaste kiss on the edge of John’s lips, causing both to shiver in delight. “Because you are meant to be mine.”

“Yours?” John whispered.

With another shy kiss to John’s cheek, Sherlock murmured “Come away human child” and stepped backwards.

John followed him. The world around them changed. John pulled away from the kiss and noticed that they were surrounded by a mist as if they were in a fog. “Where are we?”

“These are the Mists of Time. They separate the mortal world from the Fairy Realm.” Sherlock answered. “We have to pass through to reach my world.” Sherlock took John’s hand and tugged at him. The soldier followed.

To the left the mist cleared and revealed the place they had just been. But now it was day. John stopped, noticing a young boy playing in the stream. The boy was naked. His brown curls made him look familiar. Under the tree a woman wearing a long dress and an apron was slumbering. There was a flash of light and the fairy Sherlock called Irene appeared beside the stream, clad in a gown. 

The boy stood, his fingers dripping with the water he had been playing in. A wide grin covered his face. 

“Come away human child.” Irene commanded.

The boy sloshed out of the stream and to Irene, taking her hand when she held it out for him. Together they disappeared.

“Was that… Was that you?” John asked, looking to Sherlock for confirmation.

“The Mists of Time are filled with many memories.” Sherlock answered. “That was when she took me. Nanny fell asleep.” The faun indicated the woman sleeping under the tree, completely oblivious to the fact that her charge was missing.

“Why did she take you?” John asked.

“Her desire was to have a child of her own… Something she couldn’t have in the Fairy Realm.” Sherlock took a deep breath and then took John’s hand, pulling him away from the scene.

“You all have a desire? What is yours?”

As if to answer the mists to the right thinned to reveal an adolescent faun. It was obviously Sherlock, except he was a gawky teenaged version of a faun that seemed to be all limbs. The faun sat on the ground, his knees tucked against his chest as he watched a mass of young fairies run by, excitedly screaming. It was difficult for a human eye to detect their age, but they seemed young and full of playfulness as the passed the faun without acknowledging him. 

Irene followed the group and then noticed Sherlock sitting off by himself. “Why don’t you go play with them?”

“They don’t want me around… I annoy them.” Sherlock responded, his voice cracking.

“That is because you tell them their life story in an instant…” Irene smirked as she crossed her arms over her dress.

“I can’t help it.” Sherlock answered, pulling himself into a smaller ball. “It just all comes out. I don’t mean to say it.”

“Sherlock…” Irene sighed.

“I’m alone here.”

“You have me.”

“You don’t count.”

“Why? Because I’m your mother?” Irene challenged.

“You’re not my mother. My mother died ages ago. She was mortal like I was… Like what you used to be. You abducted me and brought me here because you can’t have children.”

Irene stood up straighter and sniffled. “Maybe I regret that.”

“Maybe I do too. If you hadn’t interfered I would have been married off when I came of age and then I wouldn’t be so damn alone!” Sherlock answered, clutching his legs tighter. “I would have been bored out of my mind but at least I wouldn’t be so goddamn alone!”

Irene stormed away and the Mists of Time covered over the scene.

John stood for a long time watching teen faun sob into his knees. Sherlock pulled him away and they continued on their way. “You regret being brought to the Fairy Realm… Then why are you bringing me?” John asked quietly.

“I can’t leave. And you are meant for me. I told you… It’s complicated.” Sherlock responded just as the fog cleared to reveal a pastoral setting. 

John gasped and turned around. The fog was gone and they seemed to be in a clearing. Every flower imaginable was in bloom and they were surrounded by lush life in an old forest. “Wow… It’s… Beautiful.”

There was the sound of giggles and laughter. A deluge of creatures and beings came out from behind trees and vegetation to surround John and Sherlock. “Welcome, welcome!” The Fae greeted John. They clothed him in garlands of flowers. A wreath covered his head. Some sort of flowered sash crossed his chest to his hip. Another encircled his waist. Finally the Fairies were satisfied and stepped away to form a circle around John and Sherlock.

John’s eyes caught on the faun, noticing that he too had been bedecked in garlands. But his plants looked more like ivies and greenery. Something was wrapped around his hard cock. In the center of greeters was also a table covered in food and drink. “What is this?” John indicated the table.

Sherlock stepped up to the table. “This is our wedding feast.”

The crowd of Fae cheered and became very excited.

“Wedding? Wait… Did I agree to marry you?”

Sherlock’s hand rested on the table and he stared back at John with both fear and hope in his eyes. “This is how you become one of us. You eat our food and drink with us.”

“And I can’t go back.” John asked, stepping up to the table beside the decorated faun. 

“You can’t go back.” Sherlock confirmed. “Not until it is time.”

John looked over the table. Most of the food was fruits and pastries. There was a cup that held some sort of clear liquid. “Ok.”

Sherlock nodded and reached out to take a grape from one of the bowls. Biting into it, he passed the half fruit to John’s lips.

John took the grape and chewed it. Never had he tasted a sweeter grape. Once he swallowed he smiled.

Sherlock took the cup and drank from it before holding it out to John.

John took it and sipped at the contents, finding it to be delicious. Another swallow and it was gone. The cup was set down on the table. 

Sherlock took John’s hand and pulled him closer, leaning in as if for a kiss. 

But it didn’t happen. The crowd exploded in wild applause and surged around John, dragging him off with them out into the forest.

John caught one last look of a devastated Sherlock standing helpless and alone at the table as he was pulled into the trees by the Fae. Musical instruments came out of nowhere and they played as they traveled. “What about Sherlock?” But no one answered him.

\--TBC


	2. Getting To Know You

John fell onto the grass by a stream. Out of breath and laughing, he was intoxicated by his companions. All the places they had been blurred together and he couldn’t remember his last name. But he didn’t care. A giggle escaped him. “Wassle! I’m John Wassle.” 

The others laughed along with him. 

Oh, it was jolly fun! 

His eyes caught on a woman sitting on the edge of the stream with her feet in the water. She wasn’t part of the travelers. They had stumbled on her. And she was naked! John crawled to her and sat beside her. “Hi!”

“Hello.” 

Her voice was sweet and wonderful. John wanted to crawl into her lap but something small held him back. “I’m John. Who are you?”

“My name is Mary.”

Oh, Mary had such a lovely name. And he desperately wanted to rub up against her. “Mary…”

“I’m a mermaid… A siren. That is why you are rubbing your shoulder against mine.” Mary stated.

John paused, looking down at his shoulder which had been rubbing against Mary. “Sorry.”

“You can’t help it. It’s the mortal inside of you. It will fade away as you become more like us.” Mary smiled at him.

John fought off the urge to wrap his arms around her. “If you’re a mermaid where is your fish tail?”

Mary sighed and suddenly in the place of her legs was a fish tail. “The tail is my Glamour.”

“Your what?” John asked, lightly touching the scales on what had been her thigh.

“Glamour. All the mortal born Fae have a Glamour. Our bodies change when we become one of them… But not that much. Small things mostly.” Mary explained as she gently pushed John’s hand from her thigh.

“Small things?”

“Yes… For instance I can breathe underwater and lure mortals with the sound of my voice. Those are the physical changes I received. My Glamour makes me look like what mortals call a mermaid. It’s not real. I can remove it.”

John was having an easier time focusing on the content of her words and not just the lure of her voice. “So what is a fairy’s Glamour?”

“You mean a pixie? They can fly and change size. Their Glamour is to have wings and glow.”

“And a faun?” John asked, suddenly remembering the devastated faun he had almost forgotten.

“Fauns are all about sex. They are well suited for it for both giving and receiving.” Mary gave John a lewd wink. 

“Oh…”

Mary glanced at the group of revelers still resting by her stream. “It takes a little while after you eat and drink with us for the mortal to fade. Soon you will find out what you will be.” 

“How long does it take?” John asked.

“Three days since you came here. You seem to be… Nearing that.”

John startled and shook his head. When had he left the clearing with the table? Surely not three days ago… It had only been a few minutes or a few hours. “I don’t remember three days.”

“No one ever does.” Mary laughed. 

“But someone was there… I left them.”

Mary sobered and lightly touched John’s hand. “The one who brought you here… Were you to be their mate?”

“I…” What had Sherlock said? It was a Wedding Feast. “I think… Yes?”

“Oh John…” Mary shook her head and made a face. “You shouldn’t have been dragged off by this group. You abandoned your mate at the altar.”

“I… I didn’t know I was doing it.” John replied. “What do I do? How do I find him?”

“Close your eyes.” Mary commanded.

John obeyed.

“Now think about the one that brought you here. Concentrate really hard on them. The way they look… The way they smell. Their taste… Anything you can tie to them. Concentrate on them and when he are ready open your eyes.”

“That’s it?” John asked, asked still closed.

“The Fairy Realm is organized by our states of mind. If you find this person in your mind you will find them. Good luck. And don’t forget me. I want to see what you become.”

John tried to concentrate on Sherlock. All he could hear was the stream and he worried. But he thought about the warmth of Sherlock’s skin, his chaste, gentle kiss. And then the stream seemed to fade away. John blinked open his eyes and found himself in a small clearing. The plants were all withered and faded as if it was winter. But it wasn’t cold. His eyes took in the cold, grey place and then he saw something brown and golden. It was Sherlock! Sherlock was curled up in the dead, grey grass, arms wrapped around his knees. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock lifted his head and focused on John. “John?”

“It worked!” John smiled. “She told me to focus on you and I did. Here you are!”

“Her?” Sherlock blinked rapidly, wiping at his eyes. 

“Um… Mary. She’s a mermaid I met.”

Sherlock froze, eyes wide. “You met a siren? Did she touch you? Did she… Kiss you?” Immediately the faun got up and looked John over. “You don’t look drowned.”

“I didn’t… She didn’t really touch me. Have you been here this whole time?” John looked around the grey clearing.

Sherlock didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed a flower from John’s garland and crushed it in his hands.

“What are you doing?” John asked with interest as Sherlock plucked another flower from him to add to the contents of his hand. It was making a sort of paste.

“You had the other half of the wedding garland.” Sherlock answered as he gingerly reached down to his cock. The organ was nearly purple and the ivy tight. His hands rubbed over the vine that wrapped around him. Then delicately his fingers picked at the end of the ivy tendril and started unwrapping it. But he didn’t stop at his cock. The rest of the garland was pulled off and tossed away. “Ow…” His hands made another grab for more flowers to crush them in his palms and rub them on his swollen flesh. 

“I… Don’t understand.”

“Those assholes dressed me in the clinging ivy and then abducted you with the flowers that make the ivy relax. I’ve been in agony for three days.”

John looked down at the plucked garland wrapped around his waist and chest. “I still don’t…”

“For weddings the groom is given the clinging ivy and the bride is given the flowers. On their wedding night the flowers are used to remove the clinging ivy. But that didn’t happen for us because they abducted you. And if it isn’t removed it will start to squeeze.”

“They…” John plucked off one of the flowers. “They left you in agony on purpose?”

“They don’t like me.” Sherlock stated as he kicked away the remnants of the ivy he had been wearing.

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock.” John whispered as he tugged at his garlands. “I should have known… I should have remembered. I don’t know what happened to the time…”

“You were becoming one of us… You had no way of knowing how much time was passing.” Sherlock stated as he sat down in the grass. The grasses were slowly taking on color, beginning to yellow.

“But I should have known or made them bring me here.”

“I suppose I should be grateful that a siren helped you remember.” 

“She told me that you have a Glamour.” John sat gingerly on the grass beside Sherlock. It felt odd on his bare skin. “Can I see you without it?”

Sherlock nodded and changed. The change was immediate. One moment he had goat legs and the next moment he did not. His legs were long and pale. His bare feet were big with long toes. His cock remained the same length and girth as his Fae form. Horns disappeared and pointy ears rounded out. 

“So… Basically you just look like a regular human.” John observed. “She told me that your change is your sexual appetite and the size of your penis.”

Sherlock made a face. “It’s funny, really… Ironic, I suppose. Voracious sexual appetite and no one to share it with.”

John smirked and scooted closer to the faun. The heat that seemed to roll off of him was pleasant and John basked in it. His eyes took in the budding trees. “Is it my imagination or is this place changing seasons?”

Sherlock smiled as he stared at a blooming branch. “This is my place. It reflects my frame of mind.” 

“So when I got here it was like winter… And now it’s spring?”

“Now it’s spring.” Sherlock confirmed and offered John a shy smile. 

John blushed and looked down at where his bare hip was inches away from Sherlock’s bare hip. “So… What comes next? The Fae wedding ceremony… We removed the ivy.”

“That’s a little out of order, but it will suffice.” Sherlock answered. Awkwardly he leaned in and kissed John’s cheek. “A kiss to seal our vow.”

John lightly touched when Sherlock had kissed. “That’s it? I was expecting a tingle or something.”

“Perhaps I didn’t do it correctly.” Sherlock whispered and leaned in again to lightly kiss John’s lips. 

John trembled at the sensation and leaned in deepen the kiss. 

“Hello!” A male voice with an Irish lilt called out.

Sherlock gasped and reached for John’s head, pulling his face to the faun’s sternum. “Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes, now!”

John obeyed. “Why?”

“He’s a gorgon. I don’t know how much of you is still mortal. But if you are a tiny bit he can turn you to stone. Keep your eyes shut!”

John grunted and clenched his eyes shut. Suddenly something grabbed him from behind and pulled him physically away from Sherlock’s warmth. “Sherlock?” His arms reached to empty air and a sense of panic overwhelmed him.

“Keep your eyes shut! What do you want, Moriarty?”

“What’s this? Goat boy got a plaything? Oh… What fun!” Moriarty giggled. 

John felt like he was being crushed. Desperately he tried to remember all he could about gorgons… But the only thing that came to mind was the movie “Clash of the Titans” when he was ten years old. Medusa had been a gorgon, hadn’t she? 

“Oh… Look at him. Isn’t he precious?” Moriarty whispered. “He will make a handsome sculpture to cheer up your dreary garden.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sherlock grunted with some effort.

“Hey there… Open your eyes!” Moriarty cooed.

John struggled against whatever was holding him. One arm managed to free itself and then another. One leg pulled free… And another. Two legs were still caught. Wait… Two more legs? John kicked back with those legs as hard as he could, bracing himself with the two freed legs.

“Oh! Oh look! The goat has a pet pony!” Moriarty crowed.

“John…” Sherlock gasped.

John firmly planted his feet on the ground and kicked back with his caught feet. And then the gorgon dropped him. John stumbled and fell, his eyes accidentally opened and he took in the scene before him for the first time. The gorgon, Moriarty had a long, snake body. Sherlock was caught in his coils. John had escaped a length of coil. The gorgon himself had his attention on Sherlock. Moriarty turned and John gasped. Dark hair, dark eyes… There were snakes in the man’s hair. From the waist down he had the body of a snake. 

“Hello!” Moriarty greeted with a grin and a flash of his eyes. 

They stood, staring at each other for a long moment.

Moriarty frowned. “Oh poo… You’re no longer mortal.”

“Go away! You’re not wanted here!” John demanded, stomping a foot on the ground.

“Damn centaurs…” Moriarty muttered. Behind him Sherlock was released and dumped to the ground without care. The faun landed in a heap. “I’ll be back later to play!” And with that he slithered off.

John watched him until the last of his long body was completely gone, leaving only a grass trail to show he’d been there. Finally he turned his attention to Sherlock. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Sherlock answered as he got to his human feet. Quickly he was at John’s side and then around him, checking him out from all angles.

John looked down at himself, surprised to see a horse’s chest below his own belly button. His coat was blond, his hooves grey. “I’m a centaur?” 

Sherlock patted his haunch. “You look… Magnificent.” His fingers touched John’s tail before working his way to the other side of John’s body. 

“What are centaurs like?”

“Half wild… Half intellectual. Great philosophers and yet they might steal all the virgins at a wedding… Or so I’ve been told.” Sherlock patted John’s shoulder which was also his human hip. “Can you take off the Glamour?”

John shut his eyes and tried to imagine himself as he once was. It seemed to work for Sherlock adjusted his hand to touch John’s shoulder. Opening his eyes he looked down at himself and gave a scream.

Sherlock jumped at the sound. “What is it?”

“Look!” John pointed down to the juncture of his legs. His genitals were gigantic! They were too long and dipped towards the ground under their own weight. “Holy…”

Sherlock lightly touched the shaft. “They look fine to me.”

“They weren’t that big!” John insisted, trying to back away but the genitals were connected to him. 

Sherlock sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “John… Have you ever been around horses?”

John shook his head and frowned. 

“Well… If you had you would know that the stallion looks like this.”

“I have seen a male horse and they weren’t this big!” John insisted.

“Have you seen a stallion ready to breed?”

“Oh God.” John fell to the ground, covering his face with his hands. “This is horrible.”

“No, it’s not. It could be worse than stallion genitals.”

“How?” John demanded, glaring up at Sherlock. 

Sherlock knelt on the ground beside John. “It could be worse. And it’s probably not the only thing you have. You’re half horse. I bet you can run like the wind.” The faun offered the centaur a grin. 

“But… Who would want me like this?” John whimpered, reaching down to tap at his huge genitals. 

Sherlock licked his lips and shuffled to press his side against John’s. “Your faun husband?”

“Yeah… But you couldn’t…” John’s mind drifted off, trying to imagine the mechanics of intercourse. Sherlock was too quiet so John looked at him, seeing the amused look on the faun’s face. “But you…”

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s waist and relaxed against him. “I can take anything you give me, John Watson.”

Watson! That was his last name… The one he’d forgotten. “Watson… I’m John Watson. I forgot my last name… That was weird.”

Sherlock sobered and absently patted John’s shoulder. “There’s many things you’ll forget while you’re here. But I know your name… And I’ll never let you forget it completely.”

“Do you have a last name?” John asked.

The light seemed to go out of Sherlock’s eyes and the vegetation began to wilt. “I… I don’t…”

“No… It’s ok.” John reassured the man beside him, taking his hand and holding it. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Holmes.” The faraway look in Sherlock’s eyes slowly came back to where they were. “It was Holmes. I had forgotten.”

“Sherlock Holmes.” John tried out the name.

“And Scott.” Sherlock added.

“Scott Sherlock Holmes?”

“No… The other way, Sherlock Scott… William Sherlock Scott Holmes.” Sherlock sounded out the name as if he wasn’t sure.

“How many names do you have?” John chuckled softly in amusement.

“Just those.” Sherlock answered. “You can just call me Sherlock.” Up on his knees he scooted around so he was facing John, their knees slotted together and John’s stallion sized cock rest on the faun’s thigh. “What does John Watson, the centaur, want to do?”

John stared down at where his shaft rested on Sherlock’s warm thigh. The action seemed like it should be exciting and sexual… But it was as if his cock just naturally belonged resting somewhere on Sherlock’s body. It was intimate but not erotic. “I don’t... I might want to try these horse legs out.”

Sherlock got to his feet and reached down to help John stand up. “Now put on your Glamour. You should be able to feel everything as if it was your own body.”

John concentrated and immediately felt himself shift from bipedal to quadruped. “Would you like to come with me? Could I carry you?”

Sherlock stared back at him in surprise and shook his head. “I don’t know. No one rides centaurs.”

“Let’s try it.” John insisted.

Sherlock moved to John’s side and managed to climb up onto John’s horse back. “Am I too heavy?” 

John took a few steps. “No… I can barely sense your weight.” Taking a few more steps, he quickly began to trot.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s torso and held on for dear life. “This is… Bouncy.”

“Let’s find out how fast I can go.” John grinned and took off in a gallop. 

The scenery passed by in a whirlwind of color and textures. Sometimes grainy, sometimes wet. There was stone and leaves, there was grass and forest. Finally John slowed when he felt Sherlock shift against his withers, which was at the base of his human spine. 

“John… Let me down.”

John came to the stop in the middle of a prairie. “What’s wrong?”

Sherlock slid onto the ground and crouched there, bent over as he fisted the grass.

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock lifted his head and propped himself up on one arm. The free hand went to his engorged cock, pumping it several times before semen painted the grass at his knees.

John took off his Glamour and knelt beside Sherlock. “Are you, ok?”

Sherlock shook his head mutely and his hand resumed its movement until more semen escaped. “Shit…”

They stayed where they were for a long time, Sherlock alternating between masturbating and riding out his orgasm over and over again. “Sherlock… Please tell me what’s happening?” John begged whenever Sherlock went still to expel cum on the grass.

“John… I need… N-n-need…” With a frustrated sigh he shook his head helplessly as another wave took him.

By this time the grass was a mess. It was alarming the amount. But John was more concerned for Sherlock’s health. “What do you need?” 

Another grunt and more cum erupted onto the already saturated grass. “Mate… I need to mate with you.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re my h-h-hus-band.” Sherlock managed with another wave. As it passed he gasped for breath. “It won’t stop until we consummate.”

“But… Why?”

“Because I’m a GOD DAMN FAUN!” Sherlock erupted angrily and then immediately moaned and leaned over for another wave. “Because my biology cannot be denied now that you are here with me and I can fucking smell you. Please, John… Please…” With another whine his body expelled again. “I shouldn’t have climbed on your back. I shouldn’t have… The motion triggered this. I can’t…” With another grunt came another expel. “I can’t hold back my nature. I’ve been holding it back for so long.”

John sighed and lightly kissed the back of Sherlock’s shoulder. “How do you want me?”

“Not out in the open. We’re not safe here.”

“Shall I carry you back?” John asked.

“I can’t move in this condition.”

“Then how are we supposed to get back?” John demanded.

“Sit… Sit here…” Vaguely Sherlock patted the grass his face and shoulders had been rubbing against. “Sit here and let me… I think if I taste you I can slow these enough to get back.”

“Taste me?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Sit!” Sherlock barked.

Obediently John sat down and immediately was overwhelmed by Sherlock sucking on his cock. 

Sherlock wasn’t very skilled, but he made up for skill with enthusiasm. Both hands wrapped around John’s considerable length as his mouth licked and sucked on the head. With a little whimper the faun stilled and a shot of cum landed on John’s inner thigh. 

John’s eyes rolled back in head feeling the warm splatter. And then he realized Sherlock’s hand was damp as it stroked him, teasing his scrotum and his ass. “God, Sherlock…” John moaned. One glance down told him that Sherlock was using the considerably large puddle of cum on him. A finger tickled at his ass and he cried out, feeling himself release into the warm, wet mouth.

Sherlock swallowed it all. Finally he pulled off and looked up at John with a lazy smile on his face.

John noticed that his cock was no longer gigantic. It was still large, but not overly so. “Did that help?”

The faun licked his lips and nodded. “No more spasms.”

“Good.” With some effort John managed to get to his feet and held out his hand to help Sherlock up. 

Sherlock got up and leaned against John. “When we get home we need to do more.”

“What sort of more?” John queried.

“I don’t care as long as we experience it together.” Sherlock responded as he wrapped his arms around John’s back. They took a step together and then another. Suddenly they were back in Sherlock’s clearing. Both somehow managed to sit down on the grass despite being tangled together.

John pulled away enough to take a good look at the faun. “You said you’ve been holding back your nature. What did you mean?”

“A faun is a creature made for sex.” Sherlock responded. “But I haven’t…”

John shook his head in confusion. “You’ve never had sex?”

“I thought I mentioned that no one wants me.”

John bowed his head, staring down at Sherlock’s body. Already he was hard even though by rights he should be drained from the spasms only a few minutes before. 

“John… You can have me.” With some effort Sherlock rolled over and lifted his bottom into the air. “I need this… So much.”

“But I’m too big…” John began, lightly patting a cheek.

“I’m a faun. I could take a giant or a kraken. I can certainly take a centaur stallion in his human form.” 

“Well I’m not going to do it like this.” John announced and helped guide Sherlock’s body down onto the grass, flipping him over so they were facing each other. “Face to face… Like this.” Easing himself down, he lounged upon the faun, taking delight in the way their bare skin felt pressed together. Playfully he kissed Sherlock’s lips as he slowly began to rub himself against the faun’s body.

The faun grunted in reply, wrapping his arms and legs around John’s body. 

It was easy to slide in… Too easy. As if Sherlock’s body was greedily sucking him in. John whispered, “fuck” and desperately tried to keep from orgasming too quickly. Sherlock’s body was made for it. “Is it any good?”

“Harder.” Sherlock pleaded softly. “More. Don’t hold back.”

And it was at that moment that John realized he was holding back, on some level afraid of what sort of damage he would do to the faun. “I’ll hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me.” Sherlock answered, pulled John’s lips to his own for a deep, filthy kiss.

John surrendered to the sensation, feeling his body change even as Sherlock made sounds of encouragement. His body felt like it could continue forever and spend all of eternity in Sherlock’s arms. How long could they go on like that? They were in a world where time felt different. For all he knew they had already been fucking for a week.

“Will you ejaculate already?” Sherlock cried out. “I can’t take it anymore!”

Almost obediently John’s body responded to the command and he collapsed, feeling his body drain all of its energy out through his penis.

With John draining Sherlock seemed to become animated. “You are truly magnificent.” His legs shifted to keep John from moving away. “My body craves your essence… It hungers for it. I was not aware of how hungry I have been until now.”

“Then I shall endeavor to keep you sated.” John responded, lightly kissing his lips. 

Sherlock gave half a smile, gently touching John’s cheek. “Until the day you grow tired of me and want something more.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I wanted a mate. That does not mean the mate I chose wants me.” Sherlock replied and shifted his legs so he could push John off of him. “You will be forced to bring someone here and turn them Fae.”

“You mean I’ll have to marry them?” John was confused.

“No. It may be you want a child… Or a woman. It will be something I can’t give you. You may grow to resent me for bringing you here and stripping you of your mortality. …Forcing you to mate with me so that I may survive.”

“Sherlock… You’re not forcing me.” John sighed and wrapped his arms around the faun. “I went away with you because I wanted to. I’m a centaur now… Who else could have me aside from a faun?” 

Sherlock bit his lips.

\--TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the story last night. But you get to see the third chapter tomorrow. Today you get chapter 2.


	3. A Little Help From My Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!

Things became a routine. They often had sex. But there was more than enough time to be lazy or to sleep. Gradually the landscape began to change with John’s influence. A stream passed through the clearing, deep enough to swim or bathe in. A large, flat boulder became the perfect place to sit and bask in the sunlight. 

“I could get used to this.” John stated as he lay face down upon the rock, allowing the sun to warm his backside.

“Could you?” Sherlock queried as he leaned on the rock, still in the water. 

“I could. Although…”

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and dripped cold water on the back of John’s calf, making him kick his foot.

“Can we have a house?”

“A house?” Sherlock echoed as he climbed onto the rock to lounge beside his husband. “What sort of house?”

“I don’t know… Is it even possible? Could we make one?”

“Why?”

John shrugged and rolled over onto his back. “We sleep in a nest under the stars. But it would be nice to be safe and snug someplace not so out in the open. It doesn’t have to be much. I miss sleeping in a bed but I know with the materials we have that probably won’t be possible.”

Sherlock got up and went to their sleeping area to look it over.

“Hello, John.” A female voice came from the water.

John sat up and saw Mary the mermaid along with a seal. “Hello, Mary. What brings you out here?”

Mary took off her Glamour and climbed up onto the rock beside John. “I was just showing my friend, Molly, around.” 

Molly the seal hauled herself out of the water and became a woman wearing a seal skin coat.

“Molly is a selkie.” Mary explained.

“Hello.” Molly the selkie smiled at John.

John smiled back. “Hello. Welcome.”

A shadow was thrown over the rock and everyone looked up to see a scowling faun staring down at them in his full Glamour. Molly’s eyes were wide as she stared at his impressive cock. Mary smiled, keeping her gaze to the faun’s face. John looked up and frowned at his partner’s scowl. “Mary and Molly came for a visit.”

“I can see that.” Sherlock answered darkly.

“So, John… What is your Glamour?” Mary asked, shifting her focus to the other man.

“He’s a centaur.” Sherlock answered.

“Your time is coming soon. What will you choose?” Mary asked John conversationally.

“My time?” John queried, looking up at Sherlock for answers.

Sherlock gave none.

“Your time to pick a new person to join us.” Mary explained. 

“Oh, that! I haven’t given it much thought.” John admitted.

“We choose for a variety of reasons.” Mary smiled at him. “Some want mates. Others want companions. What will you choose?”

John glanced up at Sherlock before returning his attention to Mary. “I think I would like us to have a friend.”

“Friends…” Sherlock nearly spit out the word. “What need do we have for friends? We have each other. That is all we need.”

John bit his lips and nervously glanced at the women. “I think you should go.”

“You’ll bring him around.” Mary smiled at John and jumped back into the water, waiting for Molly to pull on her coat so they could swim away together.

John watched them go before turning his attention to Sherlock. “That was very rude!”

“They were rude for coming here!” Sherlock shot back.

John got up from the rock and stepped close to Sherlock. “You can’t treat other people like that.” 

“Why not? They treat me like that!” Sherlock glared daggers at John.

John took a deep breath to steady the rising anger in his body. For a time he didn’t speak. But when he did it was very soft and very dangerous. “Sherlock Holmes… You have to do better than that.” And with that he walked away, back to their sleeping area.

That night Sherlock did not come to bed. John was alone and cold in their nest. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of bringing a friend so Sherlock could socialize with other Fae. 

^.~

Early the next day John found Sherlock by the water. The faun looked miserable. His arms were wrapped around his legs and he was nearly curled up into a ball of misery.

“Sherlock.” John called to him.

Sherlock was silent and still.

“Sherlock…” John rested a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “You are cold. Come to bed.”

“You don’t want me anymore…” Sherlock whispered.

John frowned at what he heard. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“You want a friend… Not me.” Sherlock whimpered.

“I was thinking the friend could be for both of us.” John explained. “Now will you come to bed with me?”

“You want a better husband.”

“That’s just silly. I have a perfectly fine husband. He’s just anti-social and a bit stubborn.”

Sherlock stayed where he was, not moving.

John sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of his husband’s head. “I love you. Now come to bed with me.” Sherlock held out his hand and John took it, leading the way back to their nest.

Epilogue

His name was Greg Lestrade and he was a police officer. The grey haired man in Sherlock and John’s clearing, looking around with his mouth open in awe. “This place is… Wow.” 

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” John asked from where he stood, trying to cover his genitals with his hands. With other Fae it hadn’t really mattered before. Everyone was naked under their Glamour. That was just a fact of existence. It was strange to have a mortal look at him with outside eyes. 

“And you two live here? Out in the open?” Greg asked.

“Well, not completely. We built a hut a while ago.” John admitted. “It’s not much. I don’t think it will even keep out the rain… Not that it rains here.”

“It could rain if I wanted it to.” Sherlock announced from where he sat, sulking on the sun bathing rock.

“Don’t listen to him.” John smiled at Greg. “So… What do you think?”

“I think it is bloody brilliant!” Greg answered. “And you said I am going to turn into something else?”

“Some sort of Fae, yes.” John answered.

“How long can I stay here?” 

Sherlock snorted.

“You may stay with us for as long as you like.” John replied, ignoring Sherlock.

“Thanks.” Greg smiled. “I wonder what I’ll be…”

^.~

Their first night together passed uneventfully. Greg slept in the old nest while Sherlock and John inhabited their hut. As John fell asleep he wondered if they should build a second hut for Greg.

The next day was spent with Sherlock trying to ignore Greg as much as possible. John talked to Greg as if they were old friends. Sherlock found that annoying.

That night John got up to go relieve himself. The centaur didn’t notice the shadow that crept up on him until he was wrapped in coils. It took John several moments to realize that Moriarty was back. “Let go!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Moriarty whispered, covering John’s mouth with his hand. “Be a good pony and do as you’re told.”

John struggled against tightening coils, unable to call out. His Glamour had saved him last time Moriarty attacked him. It seemed the gorgon anticipated John’s Glamour and countered it with an extra twist of his coils, keeping the centaur from touching the ground. His hooves pawed at the air uselessly.

Suddenly there was a rush of grey fur and muscle. Sharp teeth bit into the gorgon’s arm causing him to cry out. Moriarty was not prepared for the full grown werewolf that savaged his arm as if it was nothing.

John found himself on the ground as the coils loosened. Scrambling to his feet he kicked the coils as hard as he could. 

Sherlock made it to the battle just as Moriarty managed to free his arm and slither away. The faun stared at the werewolf in surprise. “Who is that?”

John took off his Glamour and glanced at the large, hairy creature. “It’s Greg.”

“What do you mean ‘It’s Greg?’” Sherlock demanded. “That can’t be Greg. He has not been here long enough to become one of us.”

At that moment Greg released his Glamour and returned to his mortal form. “That was nasty!” 

“I told you, it’s Greg.” John smirked and turned to address the werewolf. “Thank you for saving me.”

“No problem.” Greg answered. “One moment I saw you struggling and the next moment I was that big, hairy beast. I could smell him and hear him. I knew I had to help you.”

“You saved John!” Sherlock seemed to be in shock. “You changed into a werewolf and saved John.”

“Yes.” Greg responded.

“Why?” Sherlock asked.

“What do you mean, ‘Why?’” Greg cocked his head to the side. “He needed me and I helped him. We’re supposed to be friends now, aren’t we? That’s what you do for your friends.” 

“But he’s my mate.” Sherlock responded, still confused.

“I know that.” Greg crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re still friends. I’m not here to steal your mate, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sherlock shook his head as if to clear it. “Um… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Greg answered.

“Can we go back to bed?” John asked as he took Sherlock’s hand and led him back towards the hut. “That’s enough excitement for one night.”

The three all headed back to the sleeping area. And from then on Sherlock never complained about Greg living with them. In time with John’s help they became great friends.

\--FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic four years ago. I got halfway through before I ran out of steam. My bout of depression didn't help much. I finally have an ending! But I shall divide this up into three parts... Mostly because I haven't finished the ending. I'm so close! Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Title comes from Yeats' poem "The Stolen Child." But something similar is said in Erl Konig by Goethe.


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